


Outlaw Guy (epilogue)

by jadey36



Series: Outlaw Guy [13]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadey36/pseuds/jadey36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Thank you once again to everyone who has voted/left kind reviews for this fic. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Here is the last bit...</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	Outlaw Guy (epilogue)

**Author's Note:**

> _Thank you once again to everyone who has voted/left kind reviews for this fic._
> 
>  
> 
> _Here is the last bit..._

**Outlaw Guy**

Two weeks after Guy and Meg’s wedding, Allan, sweating and out of breath, charges into the camp. He is clutching a battered roll of parchment tied with a dirty cream ribbon.

“Good job Sir Jasper is more interested in eating and whoring and counting tax monies than he is in Nottingham’s comings and goings and the little people, as he calls them,” Allan says between heaving breaths. He hands Guy the parchment.

Djaq pours Allan a mug of ale, which he downs without drawing breath. It’s the hottest day of the summer so far and everyone, barring Allan, has been lazing about the camp having neither the energy nor the inclination to do much else. Even Guy has yielded to the unmerciful heat, exchanging his leather breeches and black shirt for lighter clothes, reminiscent of those Robin used to wear, though he will only wear the attached hood when it is prudent to do so.  

“What is it?” Djaq asks, pointing to the parchment.

Allan wipes his dripping chin with the back of his hand. “A letter, from Robin. Henry handed it to me right in the middle of playing cups. I was winning too, but I figured I’d better bring this straightaway in case it’s important.”

Djaq gives him a disapproving look; Robin had warned Allan against indulging in tavern tricks.

“Henry said a man he’s never seen before gave it to him a couple of days ago. I guess he must have been a messenger, sent by Robin.”

“Who is Henry?” Guy asks, sliding the ribbon from the creased, finger-marked letter. “One of your outer circle?” He recalls Robin mentioning Henry’s name as they climbed out the bird-hung storeroom in their bid to escape the castle:  _If you can’t get to the gate, go to the Trip; Henry will hide you._

“Yeah. Henry owns and runs The Trip. He keeps his ears and eyes open, lets us know if anyone of interest turns up at the inn who we might want to know about and we give him a handful of coins in exchange for the information.”

Guy frowns. “You might have told me about him. As leader I should be kept informed of everyone working for us, where they live, what they do, who they know.”

Allan gives a dismissive shrug. “You never asked.”

Djaq sidles closer to Guy.

“That’s Marian’s writing,” she says.

“What does it say?” Much asks, leaning in for a closer look even though he can’t read. “Is it good news? Have they saved the king?”  

Guy, after noting the salutation, reads aloud.

_Dear Friends,_

_I hope this letter finds you safe and well. Our journey to Trifels Castle went smoothly and the castellan, upon Robin’s insistence, granted us an audience with King Richard._

_The king remains in good spirits despite his captivity. He was pleased to see us, though not to learn that his brother wishes him dead. Since arriving here, we have received news of Queen Eleanor’s intention to raise a ransom. Robin urges you to steal the taxes from Nottingham Castle and see that they go to the queen as soon as possible._

“That’s all very well for him to say,” Much interrupts. “We’re the ones who’ll end up with a noose around our necks if we’re caught.”

“No,” Djaq says. “Robin is right. The taxes Sir Jasper collects are destined for Prince John’s personal coffers. We know this to be true. And I very much doubt John will hand those taxes to his mother seeing as he’s the one who wants the king dead.”

Guy nods in confirmation and carries on reading. 

_Vaisey and the mercenaries were camped in wood, a mile or so from the castle. We warned the king that the sheriff had orders to kill him and that he and the mercenaries might try to break into the castle to do just that. The king laughed, as well he might. Trifels is close to impregnable. The castellan, at Richard’s request, sent a small force to Vaisey’s camp, including Robin and myself. On seeing us, the mercenaries fled. Vaisey tried to escape, but Robin brought his horse down with an arrow. They are keeping him locked up in another part of the castle. Richard says that when the ransom is paid and his captors free him he will return to England with Vaisey as his prisoner whereupon he will be executed for treason._

Guy swallows what little saliva he has left in his mouth. If the sheriff tells the king about Guy’s involvement with the Black Knights and his attempt to kill the king in the Holy Land, he too may face execution upon Richard’s return.

“Do not worry,” Djaq says, noticing Guy’s anxiety. “Robin will speak for you, Marian too. As will I.” Djaq glances at the other gang members. Much opens and closes his mouth, no sound coming out. Will and John, despite having made their peace with Guy, remain stubbornly quiet.

“Well, you can count on my vote,” Allan says.

“I thank you,” Guy says. “If it were just me, I would be willing to submit to whatever punishment the king thinks fit, but now that I have a wife to consider...”

He looks at Meg, shame paining his chest.

She is wearing clothes more suitable to outlaw life, including men’s breeches. Her hair hangs in a long braid down her back.

Earlier this morning, she and Guy had stolen away to a sun-filled clearing where he’d taught her how to handle a sword. When they’d tired of performing moves, of parrying and blocking, he led her to a shady spot, away from the forest track and possible discovery. There, beneath a thick canopy of leaves, they shed their clothes and came close to forgetting that they must hold back, that the forest is no place to bring up a child. As ever, Meg had come to her senses first, shaking her head and gently pushing Guy away. Frustrated and desperate for release, he’d quickly seen to himself while she dressed, unaware.

He cannot bear the thought of not living to enjoy that happy day when he can bury himself inside her. He does not want to leave Meg a widow, free to marry another man and bear his children.

“Does the letter say anything else?” Much asks. “About when Robin might be coming back?”

Guy returns to the parchment, glad he can still make out the words through the wash of tears filling his eyes. 

_After Vaisey’s capture, the king invited us to dine with him. He sees no one expect for the squires who bring his meals and see to his other personal needs, and the castellan who plays chess with him once a week._

_Following the meal, Robin took the king aside for a private conversation. The king kept looking at me and smiling. When Robin returned to the table, he went down on bended knee and repeated his proposal of marriage, for the king’s benefit I assume. Of course, I said yes._

Guy clears his throat. Marian had as good as said that she and Robin were engaged to be married. Even so, and despite his being married, it is hard to read the words aloud.

“You are dry,” Djaq says. “Perhaps I should read?” She holds out a hand, her eyes full of sympathy.

Guy glances further down the page, shakes his head and continues.

_I believe King Richard pressed Robin not to wait any longer and Robin has never been one to refuse his king. A week later, we were married in the castle. King Richard gave me away, as Robin said he would._

_Obviously, we were sorry not to share our happy day with you all, but we will have a feast to celebrate upon our return._

_Our love and good wishes go to you all,_

Underneath Marian’s name, Robin had added his.

Guy thinks it likely that Robin signed the letter without reading it, his mind on other matters.

“Blimey!” Allan says. “Everyone’s getting married.” He turns to Much and blows him a kiss. “Do you fancy it, then?”

Much sticks up a finger. “Jigger off!”

Guy looks up and smiles. He’d expected to feel regret, to feel the weight of a past life that could have been so different dragging at his bones. Instead, he feels a sense of lightness, of release, like a prisoner escaping his gaol after years of captivity.

He catches Djaq’s eye. She is smiling that knowing smile of hers, as though she can sense what he is thinking and feeling.

Clearing his throat again, he says, “I’ll have that some of that ale, if you please, Much. And for everyone else too, to toast the happy couple.”

Much happily fetches some cups and duly pours everyone a drink.

“To Robin and Marian,” Guy says, raising his cup.

“To Robin and Marian,” they all echo.

Everyone drinks heartily as the sun, now at its zenith, beats down upon the forest camp.

“And to us,” Guy says, after draining his cup.

“To us,” they all repeat.

Meg hiccups and everyone laughs.

“And to you,” Allan says. He grins. “Guy of the Hood.”

Guy raises his empty cup to Allan in response. People have called him many names over the years, most of them disparaging, but this one he will happily live with...for now.

“So,” he says, flipping his hood over his head and grinning. “I believe we have some tax monies to steal.”

**The end**


End file.
